I used to play football
It was the fun, good old days in my teenage years.
When I was in the final year of my secondary school studies, I played real football for the second half of the school year during my physical education lessons.
We had to arrive half-past-eight in the morning every Tuesday, at a sports ground outside (and quite far away) from our campus because ours isn’t big enough.
Here’s the routine of the lesson:
- Physical training.
- One 11 vs 11 match (we have a big size for the class)
- Recovery session (plus a few minutes of debriefing)
- Return to the campus (through a pre-arranged bus journey)
For your information, we could either wear our own PE uniform or jerseys, but only in white. Our uniform rules applied here and that’s the main reason.
I wasn’t neither a fan of the game nor a football writer on Quora yet, but I could vividly remember that I had a hard time searching for a goal.
I ran a lot and covered the pitch like what Kanté and Torreira do on the pitch. I made a few important tackles and committed fouls, got a yellow card for that.
Sounds like that I played like a defensive midfielder, no? My best friend in the class played as a goalkeeper and did very well between the sticks.
Despite not scoring myself, I still recall that I handed an assist to my teammate.
I once recovered the ball from my opponent, sprinted for a bit towards goal, then instead of passing, I tried a shot but was parried away by the shot-stopper.
Then, the striker scored on the rebound and we took the lead, only to be equalised later. Our rivals were strong enough that we never won against them.
Of course, we’re a bunch of disciplined people — this is why there were no dirty scenes on the pitch and my teacher handed neither penalties nor red cards.
It was all smiles off the pitch and the so-called “enemies” returned to friends, brothers and classmates. After all, life is always simple during school days.